


acceptance in time

by iamnassau



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Female Friendship (sort of), Gen, Mild Angst, Platonic Relationships, a very tentative start to a non-hostile relationship, me: what if anne and idelle talked about their feelings and had bonding time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 15:47:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21273680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamnassau/pseuds/iamnassau
Summary: Anne and Idelle come to an understanding.





	acceptance in time

**Author's Note:**

> the urge to write this really just came out of left field but i always loved idelle and wanted to see more of their dynamic
> 
> so here it is

Sometimes she peeks into the barren room, wide grey eyes tracking Bonny through a crack in the door as the other woman lurches out of bed. She almost always ends up staring out the window, vacant and destitute. She flexes her hands, sometimes opening a wound back up and trailing blood on the floor without noticing.

Idelle isn’t sure if the perpetual glare when Bonny catches sight of her is better or worse than this. She isn’t sure if she’d like to try her luck opening the door and garnering that hateful look again. 

She wishes that Max were here. Max might know what she should do, might know what Anne needs from them.  _ She desires a moment alone to think for herself,  _ Idelle thinks, unbidden, in Max’s placating, ocean-calm tone.  _ She should not be disturbed. _

If Max were here, maybe she would follow that advice.

Instead, Idelle brings her breakfast every morning and gets the distinct displeasure of being on the receiving end of Anne Bonny’s side eye.

She supposes that it’s fair, given their circumstances. Only a few days ago, she informed Bonny that the woman she killed- Charlotte whose oil paints she had to throw out, Charlotte who had fixed her favorite jewelry box- had been her friend. It stings her eyes even now to think of the things that Anne Bonny will never know she’s taken away, will never know the girl whose life she extinguished. And maybe Idelle will never know what drove her to it.

She’s able to live with that now.

One morning, she gently raps her knuckles on the wafer-thin Maplewood door, and as usual, she gets no response. At this point, she doesn’t know why she bothers to continue with the propriety. Idelle always knocks on doors at the inn, even if she knows her coworker is alone; something about respecting boundaries, she’s sure.

She steps in with light feet to find Anne with a tome in her trembling hands. Then before she takes another step, Anne hurls it at the wall directly to the right of Idelle’s head, so hard that the wooden beam inside creaks. The tea on her tray spills out a bit as she cowers from the projectile even after it’s landed on the floor. Bonny stares at her in silence afterward.

“I’m sorry?” Idelle says with an unintended lilt.

“No, I-“ She clenches her fists, which must hurt terribly, her eyes trained on the floor. “I didn’t hear you knock. I wasn’t trying to get you or nothing.”

Idelle sets down the tray, her nerves subsiding, and bends down to retrieve the book. “ _ Don Quixote. _ I hear it’s a good one.”

Anne’s eyes flicker between the other woman and the cracked wall as she picks up a tea cake absently. “Don’t know. I can’t read.” She correctly interprets Idelle’s confounded expression, the unspoken question. “Wasn’t for lack of trying on Jack’s part. He tried to teach me after we met. Suppose I wasn’t having it.”

Idelle actually smiles at that, and when she sits on the edge of the mattress, Anne follows. “I can read it to you.” She simply grunts in response but leans back with her breakfast as if settling in. So Idelle begins regardless, deciding that if Bonny wants to brood, she can do so with accompaniment from a romantic narration. She doesn’t protest, but Idelle also doesn’t look up at her for an opinion. 

As soon as she turns the page to the next chapter, Anne stretches her bandaged hand over to stop her. Again, she answers Idelle’s question before it can be asked. “Jack usually stops at pages with big Roman numerals on ‘em.”

She nods. “He must read a lot.”  _ You must watch him read a lot,  _ she wants to say. Anne tilts her head to mirror her movements.

A discomfiting quiet drapes over them at that, and Idelle closes the book, preparing to put it up and go.

Anne then transfers her hand to Idelle’s shoulder before flinching back, staring between her dirty palms and the other woman’s silk dress. “I’m sorry. I am sorry I killed her.” Idelle bristles, her brows twitching between expressions. “I can’t find nothing better to say, and I doubt you’d wanna hear it anyhow.”

“I… I believe you.” It's not forgiveness, but Anne’s eyes still betray solace; it’s enough.

“And at the brothel, when you stopped that man. When I couldn’t stop myself, for fuck’s sake. I owe you for that.”

Idelle shrugs her shoulders. She should say something like,  _ don’t worry, you looked scared, I would’ve done the same for anyone _ , but instead- “You wouldn’t make a good whore,” she offers.

To her shock (and relief), Anne snorts. “You think? What makes you say that?”

And she considers it. Bonny is striking enough, discreet enough, and may not have any scruples with her income sources, but it’s something else. “Just… I don’t think you would go out of your way to appease a stranger. It’s not bad.” She speaks quietly so as to soften the potential offense this analysis could elicit. “It would be hard for you, I think. To pick up a trade where you would have so little to protect.”

Anne swallows thickly. “Maybe so.”

Idelle tightens her jaw. “Max had nothing to protect… after Eleanor. I imagine it was hard to know what she should put first when she had both you and Nassau in her sights.” Silence. Anne turns away from her. “Now she knows. She must know.” She stands with pursed lips, startling the other woman. “And you know too.”

She understands that well enough; she nods like something is only now coming to her. “Are you leaving now?”

“I’d better. I have to meet with Augustus for breakfast.” Idelle has missed the chance for a moment of time alone before her daily scheduled breakfast downstairs with Augustus, but she supposes a conversation between her and Anne was overdue. She bows her head with a terse smile. 

“You’re coming back tomorrow morning, ain’t you?” The question almost begins like a threat, but she softens the last few words out of uncertainty.

Idelle nods. “Of course.” She grabs the silver tray from the foot of the bed, leaving the plates for Anne to finish. She pauses mid-movement as if to say something more, but what she wants to say doesn’t come to her in time. “I’ll see you then,” she settles on.

“Alright.” Anne flexes both hands in her lap, cracking her knuckles and masterfully avoiding eye contact. A revelation comes to Idelle that Anne may wait for her brief visits, and it makes something in her chest tighten.

“Promise,” she adds before turning away and twisting the loose knob, then crossing the threshold into the foyer. 

She gathers her skirts with her free hand to amble down the stairs unimpeded; on the second landing, she lets out a sigh of relief. Not from leaving the room, but from the time spent there in the first place. Some part of her hopes Anne is relieved too. Augustus meets her at the bottom of the stairs, and Idelle hooks her arm under his.

“Bonny have anything interesting to say?” he asks, eyes bright. She’s always up before him, but he would manage to be more cheerful than her even if the birds woke him up at dawn.

“Not particularly.” She shrugs her shoulders and leaves it at that, quite content to keep this conversation between her and Anne. “I think she’s getting better though.”

“Never thought I’d say that I want to see Anne Bonny hold a dagger again, but- I’m saying it.”

Idelle hums in mild agreement. “I have a feeling things will go back to normal soon.” And maybe all of this progress to forgiveness, for her, for Anne, for Max, will disappear as soon as they set foot in Nassau. But today she allows herself to wonder what could be if it didn’t.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! hope u enjoyed the Just Girly Things like murder and regret


End file.
